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Vent #2
Do you ever pause and realize that you could die alone and be utterly and impossibly alone for the rest of your life?
I’ve never had a boyfriend, only have ever done a few kisses here and there. Never held someone’s hand, never been held, never got to have these cute little moments that I love to write about.
I crave it. I crave love so much that it’s all I ever think about. It makes me sick. Thinking about it, it makes me feel like there’s bugs under my skin.
I live in Alabama. Deep South. The people around me have this mindset of: graduate, boyfriend, college degree, husband, babies, retirement if possible.
But for the life of me, I cannot find someone that matches me— and if I do, they aren’t attracted to me or vice versa.
I see these people that are so in love, are so comfortable with each other and in their own skin and all I can do is sigh.
I want to be loved sooo bad. I guess that’s why I get so giddy and excited when people like the shit I write— even if it is bad. It’s validation that someone out there likes the words I put on a virtual page.
I think that maybe it’s the people around me— I’m born and raised in Alabama, I love to fish and hunt. I love mud riding and rodeos. I love working with horses and cattle. But I don’t get love back from that.
I love my friends, but I don’t think that they truly love me. Not really. I’m just that friend that’s always down for whatever, anytime of the night or day— I’ll drop everything to come hang out.
And maybe I need therapy.
If I was rich, I’d pay for someone to love me. Pay them so much they’d make it so real I’d think it was real. Get lost in that domestic life— the husband comes home from work, I get to pamper him then go out fishing. We come back, cook together, he goes to sit in the big recliner and relax and I’ll do the dishes while asking about his day. We’d watch a movie with the dog beside us, then go to bed and do it all again.
Oh I’d sell my left kidney and lung for that.
On another note, I was doing the sock method on my cart and the broke through the hole in the sock and broke my mirror— crazy shit. Lmk if you wanna buy me a muha, ill let you take my kidney and left lung.